


DECENT LADS & DORKY DADS

by OnlyOneWoman



Series: Neighbours & Flatmates [3]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Image, Comfort/Angst, Confusion, Escort Service, F/F, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Foster Care, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love, M/M, Multi, Neighbors, Physical Abuse, Social Anxiety, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:45:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the third part of a new piece with A LOT of Black Sails characters in modern time. I have some chapters done already, but I'm really not sure how it will end up. Some characters will be closer to the real Black Sails personalities, while I've taken some liberties with others. We will get to know florists, religious nuts, university teachers and a psychologist living in the same house in Southampton. Some characters will be blood relatives, some will be lovers, a lot of them are neighbours and even though Billy Bones is the main character, there will be a lot of side stories to his.</p><p>At the moment, I plan on three or maybe four parts of this story, with "Smoke & Smiles" as the first. I'm not yet clear with all the relationships - some of them have confused feelings - so we'll just see where it goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Glasgow Smile (Monday Morning)

Charles was an early riser. And a boring one, he sometimes suspected. He looked at the face in the bathroom mirror.  
  
”I’m going to talk to people today.”  
  
He tied his hair and put on after shave.  
  
”I’m fucking going to _talk_ to people today.”  
  
God, he hated these stupid excersises! He definately had to try something else, ’cause this selfhelp bullshit only made him feel more awkward. Maybe he should do therapy after all? No! He managed a shop for fucks sake. He talked to the costumers. If this was a problem, the _Flower Rangers_ wouldn’t be this popular, right? Everything would be just fine, if he didn’t have to deal with… people.  
  
If Charles could choose, he’d have a garden far out in the countryside, distribuing plants to shops and only having to deal with delivery service. No costumers, no small talk, no fucking apartment with neighbours! To be fair, he could’ve had far worse neighbours, but they would be even better if they lived in a mile distance or so.  
  
Of course, there was one person he’d like to talk to. Alright, then. Two. Eleanor. The land lady scared him sometimes with her classy costumes and perfekt hair. He’d noticed a huge difference in the clothes she had at work and home. When she came back from her busy work, she used to tie up her hair in a big, ragged bun, put on a loose shirt and walk around half naked on her balcony, having an ale and smoke. He’d heard her curse on her mother and collegues on phone, talking loudly about orgasms and burp when she’d had pizza. _God, she was something…_ He could get hard just listening to her.  
  
***  
  
_I'm sorry we've had such a rough go of it, you and I, but I'm afraid I'm simply enjoying myself way too much to consider leave this place. Can I buy you a drink?_  
  
The infamous Glasgow Smile scars on his face, blind on one eye, and the seeing one no less scary than the blind. Dark, blond hair, Dublin accent and four years older than a nineteen years old Billy Manderly. In Billys defence, he was young, still a virgin and desperate for some experience. The rough gang member whos breath smelled from sharp liqor and had a tongue sweet as silk didn’t need much to make Billy soft for him. Ned Low had him on his knees in no time and to make it worse, the bastard had been a really good fuck and bloody romantic in the mornings.  
  
Billy sighed. He hated to wake up this early, it only put his brain on a speed trip down memory lane. If there was one time he could admit Hal being right to complain about his love life, it was the seven months with Ned Low that ended up with a barely twenty years old Billy coming home red-eyed from Glasgow in the middle of the week with bruises and a broken cheek bone.  
  
_Are there no decent lads in Glasgow? You had to get yourself involved with a bloody gang member from Dublin?! Is it not dangerous enough with aids and nazis, huh? Of all the stupid things to do…_  
  
That time he’d actually felt good getting scolded at. Ned was a dangerous guy and hooking up with him had been really stupid. Ben had warned him lots of times without any other result than being accused of jelousy. You did – and said – so many stupid things when you were in love. The only good thing with Ned, as far as Billy could think of, was the fact that once you’d ran away from him, he didn’t bother to follow in any way. From the moment Billy’d escaped his boyfriends apartment with cuts and bruises, Ned treated him like air. Since then, he’d never been easy to get – and for some strange reason he’d been forever grateful for Ned not giving _him_ a Glasgow Smile…  
  
Finally the alarm sounded.  
  
***  
  
”Now listen to me, darling. I do not have time for this! Open the door, woman!”  
”Fuck you, Jack!”  
”I. Have. To. Take. A. _Shit!_ ”  
”Go home, then!”  
  
Jack made a frustrated groan and Max showed up with a sheet draped around her. Jack sighed.  
  
”I swear that woman will have me killed from constipation before I’m even close to a heart attack. And she’ll be late again and so will I.”  
  
Max gave him a kiss.  
  
”Forgot that I start late today? I’ll take her.”  
”You do realise it sounds as if we’re dealing with a patient?”  
”You’re the therapist, mon chere. I only deal with bridezillas.”  
”You’re a brave woman.”  
”Shall I make you some tea and porridge?”  
”That would be great, sweetheart.”  
”And Jack…”  
”Yes?”  
”Just use _your_ bathroom…”  
  
***

”Hey, watch out!”  
”Sorry! It’s an emergancy!”  
”Fucking lunatic…”  
  
John cursed and watched as the tall, flappy man in a red, silky bathrob ran downstairs and disappeared in an appartment with a bang. This seemed more like a fucking student corridor than a regular house. He unlocked the door and kicked his shoes off.  
  
_A couple of days off_ , right. He put some coffee on and took a quick shower. Of course, he could’ve refused since it was with a very short notice, but this costumer paid well and had the pleasant habit of always being clean, sober, nice and careful. Some clients simply worked too much and had no family to come home to, without being creeps. They prefered a whore to dating and frankly, John couldn’t blame them. This specific guy, Tommy Carson, had a simple taste. Some light dinner, not too much beer, John riding his cock and then the two of them falling asleep watching some scifi movie.  
  
The only thing John wasn’t really comfortable with, was Tommy’s wish to have John sleeping on his arm, but he didn’t refuse. The man didn’t only paid well, he was one of the nicest clients a whore could wish for and God knew you couldn’t afford to be picky. As long as the client kept the imaginations inside the room and didn’t forget John was a whore and not a lover, it worked well. The desperate men were the worst along side the self hating or sadistic ones. The ones never for a second allowing John to forget how little worth a whore – especially a man whore – hold.  
  
The coffee cleared his mind and he sat down on his mattress. He really had to get some furniture. It had all went so quickly he didn’t have time to prepare anything. At first he hadn’t wanted a pimp. The thought of it made the situation feel too permanent. But who could say no to a place of your own, and in a neighborhood like this? Maybe, with a little luck, he could save enough money to afford a place that was truly his own and then get a job he didn’t have to lie about. Being a whore wasn’t only a lonely work. It was a lonely life too, and it could be dangerous. **  
**


	2. Dorky Dad (Monday Evening)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the third part of a new piece with A LOT of Black Sails characters in modern time. I have some chapters done already, but I'm really not sure how it will end up. Some characters will be closer to the real Black Sails personalities, while I've taken some liberties with others. We will get to know florists, religious nuts, university teachers and a psychologist living in the same house in Southampton. Some characters will be blood relatives, some will be lovers, a lot of them are neighbours and even though Billy Bones is the main character, there will be a lot of side stories to his.
> 
> At the moment, I plan on three or maybe four parts of this story, with "Smoke & Smiles" as the first. I'm not yet clear with all the relationships - some of them have confused feelings - so we'll just see where it goes.

”It’s perfect.”  
  
Joji Chong hold the locker in it’s chain, inspecting every line of the tree ornament. Billy couldn’t help but feeling proud. He knew he was good, but an order as special as this was always a little tricky and it would’ve felt awkward to disappoint a costumer you saw every week in your house. He put a little box with cotton wool on the counter.  
  
”I’m very glad you like it. It’s a beautiful pattern you chose. Is it a gift?”  
”For me.” Joji smiled, a very unusual sight. ”How long have you been doing this? Working with silver.”  
”About eight years.”  
”And you didn’t tell me earlier?”  
  
Billy smiled too and put the box in a little bag.  
  
”Well, you didn’t ask.”  
”Point taken.”  
  
Joji wasn’t exactly a social guy and they both knew it. The men both looked amused by the situation and the fact that you really didn’t know your neighbours very well. Joji paid without questioning or even comment the price, which made Billy happy. Too many people didn’t understand the work behind a costume designed pendant or ring and went on whining about the price even when they’d made their order and liked it.  
  
”I thought you only had an online shop.”  
”I do, but I make exceptions. Most costumers are jewellery stores, but I do a lot of costume designed engagement and wedding rings. Trust me, you don’t want to take a chance with the size on that kind of ring… From may til september I swear at least a third of my costumers are people with too big or too small wedding rings who thought it was unnecessairy to measure the fingers. The costumer is almost never right.”  
  
Joji snorted.  
  
”Hear, hear. Right now I have guys coming who truly think they’ll look like Jake Gyllenhaal when I’m done.”  
  
Billy laughed.  
  
”He’s the straight guys dream look now? Is that what chicks like?”  
”I wouldn’t know, I’m 45 and a happy bachelor. My hair will stay as it is until it falls off.”  
  
Joji fingered on his thick, black ponytail and Billy handed him the bag and the change with at little smile.  
  
”It will go well with the pendant. Black and silver.”  
”Yes, and with my dark, exotic eyes…”  
”People been asking you if you know karate, ancient sword fight and origami again?”  
”Of course. I would like my job much better if ninety percent of my costumers were mute.”  
  
The doorbell sounded and Hal Gates entered. Joji gave Billy a knod.  
  
”Thanks again. It’s truly exquisite.”  
  
Joji left and the bald man with a mustache and leather jacket approached.  
  
”Wasn’t that your neighbor?”  
”Yeah. Joji Chang.”  
”Right, the hairdresser. He should get a haircut himself.”  
”It suits him. The hair. Think he’s quite handsome.”  
”If you say so. Are you done here or what?”  
”Just a sec.”  
  
***  
  
Hal Gates never thought he’d have a child and certainly not grand children, which made it even more stupid that his first thought popping up when Billy came out was _”what about grand children”_. Saying that was selfish, but much to Hals surprise, Billy’s reaction had been teary eyes and a muttered _”you really see me as yours…” ”Of course I do, don’t be silly!”_ More than a little blunt, especially coming from a foster parent to a barely grown up man, recently a teenager. Billy’d been Hal’s joy and pride since the ill treated thirteen year old first step inside his home, with a backpack pressed tight against his chest, but it wasn’t always easy to express that.  
  
Hal Gates had been the social services panic option. Pattie, an old friend working in the foster care system called him about an emargancy case, only a couple of days into his vacation. Basically they needed someone that could take a week off and provide a bed, food and keep watch for a malnourished boy that had been abused, but not bad enough to need hospital care. It was only supposed to be momentarily. _”I have called at least fifteen homes this morning and if you say no I might have to call the homeless shelters. I’d rather put him in a detention cell, to be honest.”_ The shelters were for adults and Hal couldn’t really blame Pattie for calling him. _”He’s not into alcohol or drugs, Hal. Doesn’t even smoke and his grades are good. It’s not a typical problem kid, but I have no doubts he could be one if we don’t help him now. This is not the first time he’s been abused by people the state chose to take care of him. Please, Hal, I’m desperate.”_  
  
That afternoon, Hal’s plans on sailing were cancelled and Pattie showed up on his doorstep with a skinny, bruised and higly distrustful kid in tow, hugging an old backpack. Hal, who was a confirmed bachelor by choice and never longed for children of his own, really had no idea how to raise a thirteen year old but at least he was _very_ clear about a couple of things not to do: you didn’t beat him and you didn’t starve him. ” _Hi, I’m Hal. Welcome. It’s a bit sudden, but I hope we’ll work it out.”_ The kid didn’t answer and Hal suspected shaking hands wouldn’t be appreciated. _Poor kid, being tossed around like this to strangers…_ Hal just stepped aside and invited the kid and Pat to come inside.  
  
There were so many ways to fuck up a kid, if you ought to believe the papers and experts and Hal didn’t pretend he knew two shits about how to be a parent. Once Pattie had left, Hal simply did the only thing he figured he could do at this point: asked Billy for help.  
  
The guestroom had been a storage for years and since there’d been no time to prepare it, Billy had no place to sleep but the couch if they didn’t clear out the room. So, that’s how they spent the afternoon, making room for Billy by moving boxes with old books and gadgets, dusting furniture and make a bed. The kid was skittish like a little animal and Hal soon figured out it was best keeping at least one or two arm’s lenghts to make him less frightened.  
  
He’d left Billy after a while, letting him land a bit. In the meantime, he’d made dinner. Asking what he liked to eat was apparently a _very_ strange question, ’cause Billy’s face shifted from fear and discomfort to distrust. _Jesus, what kind of assholes has he been living with?_ Hal thought to himself, while asking if Billy ate pasta bolognese. A very small nod confirmed he did and Hal was relieved to leave the room and take to the kitchen.  
  
The first dinner was something Hal would never forget. His own experience of hunger was the one of a safe and sound brought up person with three healthy meals a day and parents caring for his well-being. The way the kid stared at the simple meal reminded of a hogging alley cat, hungry but not sure if it was safe to let the guard down. When asked to help himself, Billy didn’t move, he just sat with hands pressed under his thighs, highly uncomfortable. Hal had to serve him and he put on a large portion, telling him he didn’t have to finish it if it was too much.  
  
It had been painful to watch. The first bite, hesitant. The second, with a clear struggle to be slow. The third one when the restrain disappeared and a primal hunger cut loose. With any other kid eating like that, Hal would’ve said something sharp about table manners but this wasn’t about not knowing how to behave. It was months, perhaps even years, of hunger reacting to something most people in the UK would take for granted. Usually Hal Gates wasn’t the emotional type, but eighteen years later, seeing Billy order pasta bolognese everytime they had dinner out, always hit him right in the heart. It was a very long time since Billy’d been that kid, but Hal guessed some things never quite changed.  
  
”Dad?”  
”What?”  
”You’re starring at me.”  
”I am? I was just thinking.”  
”About what?”  
  
Billy’s look was quizzical and Hal quickly tried to make a straight face.  
  
”Just memories.”  
  
_My joy and pride, my beloved son._  
  
”You should’ve had a mother…”  
  
A loose tongue wasn’t something one could accuse Hal for, but apparently it wasn’t always controlled. Billy looked quite taken aback and he slowly twinned up pasta on his fork.  
  
”I had one and she wasn’t exactly mother of the year, as you know. You’re much better at being a mother, believe me. And not that I know about the man that knocked her up, but I doubt he was much of a daddy material.”  
  
That was true. Billy’s mother had been an alcoholic and a prostitute. Trying to figure out wich one of her costumers who was Billy’s biological father, wasn’t possible and Billy honestly didn’t care. He looked at Hal with very firm eyes.  
  
”I know just as well as you what day it is and I know you hate getting emotional about it in front of me. You’re the only dad I’ve ever had and the only one I’ve ever wanted, so would you just stop giving yourself bad conscience for not being married?”  
”It’s just… Kids should have both male and female role models.”  
”Ben grew up with his mom and dad and they were very happy and very normal, you know.”  
”What’s your point?”  
”That your parents can’t make you gay or straight. Dad, I know you’re not judging me, but you have to stop this ’if he just had a mother, he wouldn’t be gay’ nonsens. It’s not like I suddenly woke up one morning, thinking ’holy shit, I’m gay and I had no idea before I came to stay with Hal’. I was eleven when I knew, for fucks sake. I fall in love with guys, I want to fuck with guys and guys only.”  
”You don’t have to be so blunt.”  
”I wouldn’t be if you just took ’hey, dad, I’m gay’ for an answer.”  
  
Hal cursed himself for bringing up this topic time after another. He had no right, Billy was a grown man and they lived in a modern country where gay people could get married and even adopt. Hal knew very well it was he who had a problem, not Billy, but ever since his then eighteen years old foster son had come out, Hal couldn’t help but linger on headlines and articles about gay people being harrassed, abused and even killed by nazis, hooligans or religious fanatics. Everytime he read or heard news about that, he had to call Billy just to hear his voice.  
  
”I just want you to be happy, Billy.”  
”I know that, and I _am_ happy. It’s not the fifties anymore, I don’t need to hide and I’m not ashamed of who I am. Are you ashamed of me, dad?”  
”Of course not! That’s the most stupid question I’ve ever heard from you, kid.”  
”So I can count on you holding a bad, sentimental speech on my wedding day if I ever find a guy I want to marry? And to have you coming home to us complaining about how we’ve built our balcony and how we’ve chosen the wrong kind of floorboards in the kitchen? ”  
  
Hal made a grunting noise.  
  
”Let’s just say I’m not marrying you off to a no good loafer with no life goals, like an artist or someone like that scumbag from Dublin. It’s not that I don’t trust you…”  
”Only the guys I’m dating?”  
”Something like that.”  
  
Billy smiled.  
  
”You’re such a dorky dad, you know that? Couldn’t you just have asked me not to date a psychopath again, if that’s what you’re worrying about, instead of going on about rolemodels and shit? I promise I’m careful, alright? And you honestly didn’t believe I’ve been a monk since Ned, did you? Christ dad, that was more than ten years ago and of all the guys I’ve met he’s been the only psycho.”  
” _All_ the guys?”  
  
He realised he sounded like a caricature of an overprotective father and yes, Billy was past thirty now and Hal had no right – or wish – to snoop in his private life. But he couldn’t help it, really. Billy was his joy and pride and the thought of someone making him miserable again made Hal feel close to murderous. And he was old enough to remember when aids came. Not that Hal had ever believed Billy to be promiscuous, but still… Dating girls would’ve been so much safer, wouldn’t it? Billy just rolled his eyes at Hal’s call out.  
  
”You’re one to talk, never married and lived at sea for years. Are you telling me you’d only had one woman when you were thirty?"  
”It’s not the same thing.”  
”For fucks sake… I made _one_ bad mistake when I was nineteen and you expect me to stay at home waiting for prince charming or something. My sex life is non of your business and actually I didn’t think you really wanted to know anything about it.”  
”I don’t.”  
”Then just don’t ask about it. You have to trust me not to date psychopaths or getting aids and if you can’t stop worrying, just… I don’t now, do it like Ben’s dad or something.”  
”And how is he worrying?”  
”By sending gift packets with condoms and lube from his pharmacy every time he fills up the store supply. Ben could probably put up a shop by now. I think he has some preg tests as well, but his dad stopped sending them after a while. He has plenty of lube left, thou.”  
”Billy, please spare me the details. I know I asked for this, but you’ve made your point now and I’ll shut up about it.”  
”For about six months…”  
  
His foster son, who couldn’t be more loved if he’d been Hal’s own flesh and blood, smiled and raised his beer.  
  
”Happy dorky foster fathers day, dad.”

**Author's Note:**

> The "Neighbours & Flatmates" series is divided in different parts instead of only chapters, to make it a little easier for me to sort all the different stories out. To be clear: every part is linked, they're posted in chronological timeline and they're not made to be read as separate stories.


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